Live on and write.

While walking my dogs, downtown in the fashion district, this surfer looking dude comes across the street to meet me. He asked for money and proceeded to raise the left sleeve of his red jacket, to his elbow. The first thing I noticed was the beautiful tattoos. As i looked down his arm, I noticed this bloody, gaping hole that traveled horizontally. It looked as someone took a knife and dug a crater in his arm. For a minute i thought i was watching an episode from house. I was shocked. He said he had just come from the hospital and needed $9 for antibiotics. I remained calm and cool and expressed how sorry i was and that i didn't even have a $1 to give him. I told him to take care and I quickly walked away. I don't think i can even make this up in a script. It's sad and sometimes horrifying to see such human suffering and degradation. My heart goes out to him. In terms of a writer I am convinced that you have to experience life, whether good or bad in order to write about it.